The Third Bear

Alan P. Scott - Fictions

a modern fairy tale

After they'd eaten the obnoxious little blonde and scattered her bones around the little house in the woods, the three Bears began to have second thoughts about what she'd said. Sometimes it takes an outsider to point out things that have been going on under one's very snout.

Papa Bear began it, grumbling and rumbling in his recliner after dinner.

"You know... this chair really is too hard. Mama, let me try yours for a while."

Mama Bear, for her part, kept shifting around in her overstuffed easy chair.

"Only if you don't mind letting me try yours, Papa."

Baby Bear didn't say anything. His chair was just right.

Mama Bear and Papa Bear got up and traded places. Not five minutes had passed, by the big clock on the mantel, before both of them were complaining again.

"I just can't seem to get comfortable in this thing," Mama Bear whined. She pulled levers and squirmed mightily, but no position of Papa Bear's recliner seemed to satisfy her.

"Owooo!" groaned Papa Bear. "My back is killing me! This thing's too soft!" He swiped at one arm of Mama Bear's chair with his claws outstretched, sending stuffing all over the hooked rug in front of the television.

"Now look what you've done, Papa! That upholstery's going to be impossible to replace!" Just then the lever to Papa Bear's recliner came off in her paw. They both groaned thunderously.

Baby Bear didn't say anything. His chair was still just right.

Papa Bear and Mama Bear got up and switched places again, with much muttering and grumbling and shuffling of feet. Just as Papa had lowered his bulk back into his recliner, the whole thing collapsed! And just as Mama had settled into her own soft chair, all the stuffing whooshed out of it with a great whoosh!

Baby Bear, in his perfect little chair, couldn't restrain a snort and a snuffle when he saw his parents on the floor.

So they ate him, sat in his chair and slept in his bed, and in the morning they ate all his porridge. It was just right.

Remember, kiddies, don't mock your parents... especially when they look their worst.

Original content on this page © Alan P. Scott. All rights reserved.

Contact me: